


a rondo

by lyriclove



Category: Bloomsbury Group RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: M/M, i love john maynard keynes a lot as a person, keynes pov, not very heavily researched but i dont think there are any Major Innacuracies, this is dumb please bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyriclove/pseuds/lyriclove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>rondo (n.) a musical composition built on the alternation of a principal recurring theme and contrasting episodes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a rondo

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest I wrote this on the course of about 5 subway rides. Most research was done off the top of my head, but was checked afterward. Please understand that I haven't written anything other than essays for about 3 months, so I'm rusty to say the least.
> 
> Thank you to the GSA squad for encouraging and occasionally fact-checking my gay history things.  
> Check out the end notes for brief historical notes on this self-admitted disaster of a story.

  
a. statement  
he looks you in the eye.   
he takes your hand and says what you had been waiting to hear.  
   
b. second theme  
you explain, analyze, understand.   
he creates.  
there's an unbridled energy that alights in him when he picks up the brush, the pencil, the ink. the way his eyes light up makes your world that much brighter. glancing up from his work for a second, he  
   
a. restated  
looks you in the eye.  
setting his pen down, he takes your hand and speaks; softly, brightly, warmly. his voice is enough to make your core, intractable and rigid as it may typically be, melt down.  
   
c. third theme  
he is poetry.  
you are not.  
he takes you off to versailles, hoping for some grand takeaway regarding architectural styles and artistic design of the city.   
he claims it is more full of ghosts than any place he knows.  
but putting any apparitions aside, the city itself has an extremely high-functioning, well managed water system, which excites you.   
water is perhaps the most essential substance for maintaining human life, speaking rationally.  
but poetry is not rational; poetry is letting yourself drift in the wind with a pure conviction that you will get where you need to go, having a premonition of disaster and yet allowing yourself to continue on with what you are doing simply out of your love and joy for the act. poetry builds worlds; on canvas, on paper, in bright eyes that look directly into yours and compel you to bare your soul.   
you are not poetry and he is.  
his poetry counteracts your rationale, leaves heart-shaped marks in your brain that impress themselves even deeper as he  
   
a. restated (again)  
looks you in the eye.  
and he grabs the back of your head,  
pulls you into a kiss.  
   
b. second theme (again)  
you explain, analyze, understand.   
he creates.  
he had asked you if he could paint you.  
(why? surely you are far too ugly to be the subject of a work of art.  
how could you, in good conscience, be the inspiration for the creations of another?)  
you only agreed because of the way the words came out his mouth,   
how the world shifted around you when he smiled,  
his eyes his eyes his eyes  
and so you concede to his pleas  
(he's so happy. you wish he was always like this.)  
you sit at a desk by the window, pencil in hand, hovering over papers.  
“is this good?” you ask him, adjusting your posture a bit.  
“the very model of an intellectual.” he beams, and _oh_ , isn’t that delightful?  
his face drops a bit. “are you sure you want to do this?" he says, ever thoughtful and cognizant of the needs of others. "it might take a bit. you might have to stay still for quite some time.”  
(you’d sit still, paralyzed, for an eternity, you’d be a _damn victim of medusa herself_ if it meant he were happy.)  
“yes. definitely,” you say, but these two words cannot begin to describe just how sure you are.  
   
a. restated (again)  
he looks you in the eye.  
he takes you hand and says those three words  
(that he really had been saying all along).  


**Author's Note:**

> As promised, brief historical notes. This unfortunately isn't _very_ researched, but I did make sure there weren't any glaring inaccuracies (I hope).  
>  1\. Keynes had quite a few self-image issues and considered himself ugly. Despite this, he got a lot of male attention (which I find really interesting. And weird.)  
> 2\. Duncan once wrote to Lytton Strachey that Versailles "[was] more full of ghosts than any place [he] knows." Duncan was very much interested in the architectural, artistic aspects of Versailles. However, as I'm sure we're all aware, Maynard was more interested in the waterworks and how their maintenance compared to the water system in Berlin. Boo, you whore. Needless to say, Duncan was bored out of his mind. (But they loved each other anyways and isn't that really what matters?"  
> 3\. The scene in "b. second theme (again)" took place on June 5th, 1907, just after he had resigned from the India office. The scene in "c. third theme" took place anywhere in between April 7-21, 1909. Obviously this isn't in order. Just deal with it, fam.  
>   
> Thanks for reading this!


End file.
